Duty Mode
by LIMBO Dib
Summary: In but a few hours, he had become a monster.  Bodies littered the ground around him, and there is only one survivor.  Only he - the killer - can survive...unless someone can save him from himself...


He was terrified, to say the least. Bodies littered the ground around him, and blood stained the walls of the room. He had no idea what had just happened - he remembered a sudden scream, several loud sounds, moans of pain as people hit the ground...

Whoever had brought the gun in was dead. He blinked as he remembered someone...some_thing_...snapping his neck and knocking him to the ground. The body of the man now lay behind him, still bleeding. His head was no longer connected with the rest of his body.

Blood. He smelled it. It was everywhere. It was all over him, and all over the bodies that surrounded him. He wondered if he had become what he was always destined to be - a monster. He had no idea whether he was supposed to be a monster or not, but wasn't that what his master had told him?

In the corner of the room lay someone who was perhaps the lone survivor of the battle. Blood was pouring out of a wound in his chest, soaking his shirt in red. Somewhere along the way, his glasses had fallen off, and were now crushed in another corner of the room.

He turned, noticing this survivor, and approached, eyes glowing with malice. He didn't know who he was anymore, but there was a survivor. The survivor had to die. He stood there in front of him, blood dripping from his hands. The survivor only watched in fear.

They said nothing, but the expressions that were exchanged told the whole story. Tears sprang to the survivor's eyes as he glanced down at the body lying next to him - his sister. Blood was soaking her hair, her clothes...everything. Her expression was blank and lifeless.

Fear filled the survivor as he looked up at the ruthless killer in front of him. Nothing was like it had once been...the room had become a haven for chaos and pain. He wished he hadn't been so stupid. He wished he had never threatened the monster.

He held his sharp, metal hand up to the lone survivor's neck. It was time for him to die - nobody could survive. Nobody could live after the events that had taken place that night. Only he - the cold, ruthless murderer - could survive. That was the only rule.

Suddenly, the light of the full moon outside shone throughout the room. A silhouette stood in the doorway. He wasn't bleeding, but the monster knew he could make short work of whoever it was...or so he thought. When the figure took one more step, the monster recoiled in fear.

"Wait." The word meant so much, and yet so little. The killer lifted his sharp hand from the survivor's throat, letting him live for a moment longer. The survivor looked on. He couldn't talk anymore - his tongue had been cut out by the murderer standing in front of him.

"Don't kill him," the figure managed to choke out, "Don't kill him." As he got closer, his bright eyes became visible, making the survivor blink in shock. Everyone in the room had been under the assumption that this figure was dead. Even without glasses, he could see the figure's eyes quite clearly.

The monster rushed up rather suddenly and sliced through the air. One of the figure's arms dropped to the ground, now severed from his torso. The arm fell to the ground, limp, and blood began to pool around it. The survivor finally let himself cry.

The figure moaned in pain, but managed to stand up straight. "Stop," he whispered, "Please. I love you, and I don't want you to become a monster. I was wrong about everything...I'm sorry. I love you more than anything else in the whole world...even the entire universe."

The monster stood there, unsure about what to say. Were the figure's feelings mutual? He didn't even know anymore. He glanced toward the survivor, who was now crying. He didn't want to die - it was obvious. The monster knew he would have to die, though...right?

The figure took a few steps closer to the heartless killer. "You mean everything to me," he murmured, tears welling up in his eyes, "Please don't kill him. Please." The monster paused. He had never heard the figure speak like this before...it was different.

Suddenly, without warning, the survivor collapsed, head hitting the ground. Pain was surging through him, even though the monster hadn't touched him. He was dying now - he felt sleepy, he just wanted to leave the world...but there were some forces that didn't want him to.

He saw the blur of steam rising from the figure's face. He knew what it was, but had forgotten at that moment. It was too hard to remember anything now...even his name would have to be forgotten. He just wanted to die. He just wanted to disappear.

"You're not dead yet," the figure whispered, lifting the survivor up with his only arm, "and I won't let you die. We'll take you to a hospital. You'll be better. Just...just trust me. I'm sorry for everything, and I know he was a monster. I know what he did, and..."

The survivor's pained expression told him everything. _He killed her, _it was clearly saying, _He killed my sister. _The figure glanced down at the figure lying on the ground and felt horrible. Indirectly, this was all his fault. Everything was his fault now.

"I know," the figure told the lone survivor, staring directly into his eyes, "but it will all be okay. She may not even be dead, you know..." He stopped talking then - a sudden pain shot through him like a lightning bolt. He whimpered softly and dropped to the ground.

"D-dib..." the figure stuttered, shuddering with pain, "Don't d-die, Dib. P-please don't die." Dib only nodded, tears still running down his cheeks. He wished he could talk - wished he could apologize for everything he had done...but it was impossible. His tongue had been cut out, after all.

The monster took a few steps forward, but was in shock when he suddenly realized he was crying. He hadn't cried in what seemed like forever. Ever since he had become the killer he now was - was it only a few hours ago? - things had changed. Things were different now.

The murderer's eyes glowed in an even brighter shade. They grew brighter, and brighter, and brighter...and rather suddenly turned blue. Blue...blue like the ocean, blue like his tears as they pooled on the ground. Blue like the sorrow he felt. Blue like...everything.

He stepped closer. "M-Master," he began quietly, "I...I killed all these people...didn't I?" His master nodded, still holding Dib in his only arm. Then he rather suddenly fell backward, blood seeping from a corner of his mouth. Dib watched, now sobbing relentlessly.

"Master!" the killer screamed, "Master! I promise I won't go into Duty Mode ever again, Master! I promise!" He knelt down next to his master's body and bawled. Then, rather suddenly, he whispered the words he thought would never come. _"I love you..."_

His master's red eyes opened slightly. "I'm not gone yet," he choked out, "and don't worry. We...we can make it out of here. Everything will be okay." The killer nodded and helped his master to his feet. He struggled a little, but then stood up, still bleeding.

The killer wasn't sure whether his master would survive or not. Dib was still lying in his master's arms, the tip of his scythe-like hair dripping with blood. The monster looked up at the star-filled sky. He was scared - nervous, afraid, worried...but his master had told him everything would be okay.

The hospital stood in the distance, a gleaming beacon among the grassy hills. The killer lifted his master into his arms and took off, running as fast as he could. He held back his tears, now knowing that his master would definitely survive...just as long as he did.

"I love you, Master," he whispered, holding him as gently as he possibly could, "You're my best friend in the entire universe." Dib was asleep now - he probably wouldn't awaken until each one of his wounds was healed. The bloody trail they left meant nothing now, nor did the dead bodies behind them.

Only his master mattered now. "I love you, too, Gir." Invader Zim whispered.


End file.
